A batch of wontons among friends

Wednesday

Sunday afternoon. Cloudy. I’m reading Fuchsia Dunlop and getting very, very hungry. I need a bowl of dan dan noodles immediately and make out a grocery list for that and her recipe for wontons.

Sunday afternoon. Cloudy. I’m reading Fuchsia Dunlop and getting very, very hungry. I need a bowl of dan dan noodles immediately and make out a grocery list for that and her recipe for wontons.

An hour later, I’m in the kitchen making her Sichuan wontons with a stuffing of ground pork seasoned with Shaoxing wine, white pepper and spring onion greens.

I’ve found it makes an enjoyable afternoon to invite friends over to help make a batch or two. We’ll sit around the table or stand side by side at the counter, talking, listening to music and folding wonton wrappers to our own rhythm.

The repeated gestures of dabbing a teaspoon of filling onto each square wrapper, slicking the edges with water, folding the wrappers corner to corner and then bringing the other two corners together are curiously soothing.

Daydreaming, I remember not Szechuan province, where I’ve never been, but Bologna, Italy, where I once spent a winter month learning to make gnocchi at a trattoria and hanging around a laboratorio where three or four elderly women made pasta by hand around a big wooden table. Their tortellini were the smallest and most delicate I’d ever seen, destined for tortellini in brodo (in broth), which, except in flavoring, isn’t all that different from wonton soup.

The shape of the stuffed dumpling is the very same. Only in Italy, the shape is supposed to have been inspired by the goddess Venus’ navel, while in Sichuan, Dunlop writes, they are known as "folded arms" (chao shou). "Some say this is because the raw dumplings look like the folded arms of a person sitting back in relaxation; others that it’s because of the way they are wrapped, with one corner crossed over the other and the two pinched together."

As we finish each, we line the dumplings up on a cookie sheet like columns of soldiers. Half of a double batch will go into the freezer and, once they’re frozen, I’ll transfer them to Ziploc bags. The other half we’ll eat for supper (they take only minutes to cook), garnished in the bright heat of chili oil, crushed garlic and soy sauce infused with the flavors of Sichuan peppercorn, star anise, cinnamon and ginger.

No need for advanced cooking skills to make the wontons, yet the results are spectacular and soul-satisfying.

Crush the ginger with the flat of a cleaver blade or a rolling pin, and put it in a cup with just enough cold water to cover. Place the pork, egg, Shaoxing wine and sesame oil in a bowl with 11/2 teaspoons of the ginger water and one-fourth teaspoon salt and one-eighth teaspoon pepper, or to taste. Stir well. Mix in the stock, 1 tablespoon at a time. Finally, add the 3 tablespoons finely sliced green onions.

Fill a small bowl with cold water. Take a wonton wrapper and lay it flat in one hand. Use a table knife or a small spatula to press about 1 teaspoon of the pork mixture into the center of the wrapper. Dip a finger into the cold water, run it around the edges of the wrapper and fold it diagonally in half. Press the edges tightly together, moisten one of the corners, overlap with the opposite corner and press firmly to seal the dumpling. (They will look like Italian tortellini.) Lay on a flour-dusted tray or large plate.

3. Bring a large pan of water to a boil over high heat. Meanwhile, prepare three or four serving bowls. In each bowl, place 1 tablespoon of the sweet, aromatic soy sauce, 11/2 tablespoons chili oil with sediment and one-half to 1 heaped teaspoon of crushed garlic, to taste.

4. When the water has come to a boil, drop in the wontons. Stir gently to make sure they do not stick together. When the water returns to a rolling boil, pour in a small cup of cold water to calm it down. When the water has come to a boil for the third time, the wontons should be cooked through (cut one open to make sure). Remove the wontons with a slotted spoon, drain well and divide among the prepared serving bowls. Scatter each bowl with some of the remaining green onions. Serve immediately, stirring everything together before tucking in.

NOTE: Adapted from "Every Grain of Rice: Simple Chinese Home Cooking" by Fuchsia Dunlop. Shaoxing wine and tamari sauce are available at select well-stocked supermarkets as well as Asian markets.

Sweet, aromatic soy sauce (Fu zhi jiang you)

1/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons light or tamari soy sauce

1/3 cinnamon stick or a piece of cassia bark

1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds

1/2 star anise

1/2 teaspoon Sichuan peppercorns

1/3 ounce piece of ginger, crushed slightly

3 tablespoons brown sugar

Directions:

In a medium bowl, stir together the soy sauce, cinnamon stick, fennel seeds, star anise, peppercorns, ginger and brown sugar until the sugar is dissolved. Cover and store in a cool, dry place until ready to use.

NOTE: This sweetened, spiced soy sauce is the secret ingredient in the glorious, garlicky dressing used for Sichuan wontons. Light soy sauce, tamari soy sauce and Sichuan pepper are available at select well-stocked grocery stores as well as Asian markets.

Never miss a story

Choose the plan that's right for you.
Digital access or digital and print delivery.